come on, tell me that im a good girl
by bobbingformangos
Summary: "Tell me that you love me," Regina cried against Emma's shoulder, her hands clutching and digging and Emma was afraid to pull back, pull away.


"Tell me that you love me," Regina cried against Emma's shoulder, her hands clutching and digging and Emma was afraid to pull back, pull away. Regina was barely hanging on and Emma was holding her up and it was all too much, too much, all fucking too much.

Regina smelt like bourbon. Like the bourbon houses in Kentucky that Emma used to visit when she lived there. The strong smell of alcohol and spice and emotion filling her nose, burning it, and she was worried. Emma was a bourbon and whiskey girl, Regina was not. Regina was wine and cider and soft evenings in front of a fire in her study.

But instead she was sobbing against Emma's shoulder, nails digging more and more into Emma's back, demanding things of the blonde like "Tell me I'm worth it", "Tell me that you would choose me", "Tell me, tell me, tell me that I'm a good girl".

Regina was spiraling and Emma was holding tight to her. She came over to apologize, after a few days and getting worried about the mayor, she came over to apologize because she fucking cared about Regina. She expected her angry and vengeful and not sobbing in the middle of her study with empty whiskey bottles and bourbon bottles and fucking hell, even her mahogany desk had blotches of spilt alcohol and half eaten apples and it was kind of pathetic but extremely understandable.

It's shit that Emma would do.

But this, Regina's desperate please, felt like slashes of a knife against her sensitive skin and it caused Emma to slowly walk her out of the study. It smelt like broken hearts and desperate and Emma after she gave up her baby.

She wove her way out of Regina's arms, gently soothing her when Regina grasped for her, so that she could move around and press her chest against Regina's back and wrap her arms around the woman, hands coming to fold over Regina's chest, on her heart. Quickly and clumsily, Regina moved her hands over Emma's as Emma pushed them forward, slowly, up the steps.

"I'm taking you to your room, Regina," Emma whispered into the shell of Regina's ear, using her nose to push away the mayor's hair. They were slow going up the steps and down the hall. Each few steps had Emma compelled to whisper truths into Regina's ear, planting tiny seeds in the woman's drunken belly.

"You are gorgeous, Regina. I've thought that from the moment I first saw you."

Step.

"You're worthy of love, Regina. So fucking worthy."

Stumble.

"You deserve happiness. You deserve to feel whole and content."

Catch.

"Shh, I promise you, I'm right here. I'm not leaving you, Regina."

Pause.

"If I ever had the chance, I would never let you go."

Step.

"You are such a good girl, Regina. You are such a good, good girl."

Step.

"Fuck, Regina, I…"

They entered the bedroom. The white comforter pulled back, ready for the mayor, and Emma wondered for a moment if she had shared her bed yet with that man. But the room smelt like flowers blooming on trees and lavender and wishes murmured in pillows over the last 29 years and it was all the bit Regina and nothing like a man who smelt like a forest and sweat.

Emma turned so that when they made it to the bed, the back of her knees it and she took a seat. Regina turns and swayed in front of her, smiling softly, drunk on Emma's words as the blonde waters them, seals them inside Regina, with soft caresses of her fingers and gentle eyes.

"You should have been my soulmate," Regina whispers as she smiles lazily. Her eyes are still red as fuck and she still smells like old bourbon, but her voice is soft and Emma realizes that she's only ever heard Regina use it with Henry and then, once, a long time as they stood at the line that separated fairy tales and the real world. "You would be perfect."

And Emma picks up Regina's hand and brings it to her lips to gently kiss because she never realized how she wished that was true. She wished that New York was real and her time with her son was real that that Regina was there with them and that there were no fairy tales, just two people coming together to try to make a life together.

Why couldn't that happen? Why couldn't they live like real people in the real world instead of like fairy tale characters and believe in things like true love and soul mates?

But Regina was drunk and Emma was starting to become raw and both women were exhausted.

Sleep would help.

It will either grow the seeds that Emma planted or it would stifle them down, never to be talked about by either woman.

It didn't matter at this moment though. It didn't matter because Emma was gentle and slowly scooting back onto the bed, kicking off her shoes, and bringing Regina down next to her.

She whispered into Regina's ear, the the woman cuddled into her side and her fingers grasped onto Emma's shirt, and there was a need in both women that was being met as they slowly fell asleep surrounded by the smells of lavender and of wishes that were murmured into pillows and just maybe, well, just maybe they will one day be answered - like in the fairy tales.


End file.
